


putting this night down to bed

by SyntheticRevenge



Category: NeoScum (Podcast)
Genre: (it's really not particularly explicit i'm just being safe), Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Self-Hatred, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25658641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SyntheticRevenge/pseuds/SyntheticRevenge
Summary: Dak just seems to love people, and Tech desperately, horrifically, wants to be one of the people he loves. And Dak’s always telling him to 'be more assertive, dude! gotta stand up for what matters to you!' because that’s easy advice to give when you’re fucking blasted all the time and don’t have anything terrifying resting in your body and the world doesn’t hate you for things you can’t control.
Relationships: Tech Wizard | Squirt Purpler/Dak Rambo
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	putting this night down to bed

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while Incredibly high a week ago, in the spirit of Dak Rambo, and my friend encouraged me to post it so...uh...here is my first offering to the Neoscum fandom lmao. I have big feelings about Dak/Tech and they hurt. The title is from Killian's Red by Nada Surf which is like...a perfect song for them. Hope you enjoy.
> 
> (OH also I hope this doesn't come off as fetishistic!! I'm trans myself so. Uh. Yeah.)

The moments of lucidity in the last month have been so painfully and incredibly and gorgeously fucking  _ real _ that they’ve hurt like hell, each and every one. Tech loves feeling  _ alive _ , for once, loves using his magic for something that doesn’t destroy him, loves letting go and being consumed by his desire to actually be out in the world for once.

And he loves Dak, too. It’s hard not to. Dak laughs like a hillbilly wizard on kamikaze, and one time Tech blurted that, the words stumbling and stalling on his numb lips, and after Dak finished laughing at the description, he fixed Tech with his sharp, kinda nasty smile. “I  _ am _ a hillbilly wizard on kamikaze, dude!” he’d said, and Tech wanted to bury himself in that smile. Thought about all kinds of things Dak could do with those dull-razor teeth and then thought about how fucking disgusting he was for fantasizing about his friend, about someone who’d been so good to him. 

He’s lucky enough Dak is his friend at all. Dak isn’t ever gonna  _ want _ him. No one does. He knows better than to even  _ imagine _ it. He makes himself jerk off to fantasies of faceless dudes in dark alleys who don’t give a shit what he looks like or what he is, because that has a lot less baggage attached then thinking about Dak chokeslamming him into a wall and smirking those sharp teeth at him and fuc-- _ no _ . Nope.

The thing is, though, Dak is fucking cruel, actually, whether he means to be or not, because he talks about the other people he’s slept with, sort of rambles, really, when he’s absolutely hammered. He doesn’t talk about their tits or dicks or how good they were with their tongues or anything, though, because that would be gross and would make Tech want him less, no, he has to be weirdly sweet.

He’ll tell Tech about how one guy in Austin decades ago smelled like burning wood and cinnamon and they should make that shit a cologne, or how there was this cyborg-person-thing who could split their fingers out into bristles and give killer head massages, or--small, sweet things to remember, even though Tech is sure by the way Dak always trails off that he fucked these people like nobody’s goddamn business.

Dak just seems to love people, and Tech desperately, horrifically, wants to be one of the people he loves. And Dak’s always telling him to  _ be more assertive, dude! gotta stand up for what matters to you! _ because that’s easy advice to give when you’re fucking blasted all the time and don’t have anything terrifying resting in your body and the world doesn’t hate you for things you can’t control.

But fine, Tech should take his advice. And fuck, he  _ wants _ Dak. Wants the patented Good Dak Rambo Dick he is absolutely  _ positive _ is real and not just his overactive imagination battling the cold showers he forces himself into.

Dak keeps Xanadu parked by the river, not too far from Tech’s apartment. They haven’t had a Darkmovers job in a few days, and Tech’s been too nervous to go hang out with him, but he’s fighting that shit down, Dak’s made him a new man, and he’s gonna--he’s gonna go out and  _ seize _ the fuckin night.

He gets really, really drunk, and knocks on the immaculate side of Xanadu. Dak bangs the door open within a few seconds, a wave of smoke cascading into Tech’s face. 

“Tech Wiz! My good buddy!” Dak says, beaming, eyes bloodshot and blissed over. “Fuckin’ welcome, I missed ya!”

Tech means to say  _ hey, dude, you too _ and  _ how’s it going _ and  _ do you wanna hang out _ but instead he just blurts “I want you to fuck me.”

Dak’s eyebrows shoot up, but his face doesn’t move an inch other than that. He nods. “Okay. Uh, yeah, come in, we can...we can talk about it!”

“I don’t...want to talk about it, I just--”

“Yeah, well, buddy, if we’re gonna fuck, we need to talk about it,” Dak says, firmly, and he steps aside to let Tech into the truck. They sit in the back next to each other, and Dak rolls a joint. 

“I want you,” Tech says, again, stupidly, because he’s sad and wasted and he hates himself and Dak is every single thing he wishes he could be and if he can’t be Dak he at least wants Dak inside him. 

“I’m real flattered, buddy,” Dak says, voice a little soft, eyes a little sad, and it’s patronizing and Tech wants to scream. “But I, uh...which me do ya want?”

Tech hates that he understands the question and that he’s thought about that in a lot of detail. He knows which Dak he wants. He wants wild, battle-high, strung-out Dak, vibrating with manic energy, muscles twitching, invincible. He wants Dak rough and strong and intense and all of it focused on him.

“I want  _ Dak Rambo _ , dude,” Tech says, because he doesn’t know how to explain it better than that. Dak seems to understand.

“Yeah, I was worried about that,” Dak says. He sighs. “Look, uh... _ Dak Rambo _ is kind of a shitty guy. I think you deserve better than him.”

Tech laughs at that, the noise startled out of him. “I don’t deserve  _ shit _ . I deserve--I deserve to be treated like fucking garbage.”

Dak makes a small noise at that and shakes his head. “If you really think sex with me’s gonna make things better for you, we can do that, that’s all good, but I’m not...I’m not gonna hurt you. Okay? I’m gonna treat you like I think you actually deserve.”

“But I want you to--” Tech starts, and then Dak kisses him quiet, gently, but with an intensity that knocks the air out of his lungs. Dak doesn’t use his size as a weapon, but a comfort, like a weighted blanket, pressing into Tech and keeping him there, making him feel... _ safe _ .

Dak rests his forehead against Tech’s, and then kisses Tech’s scraggly, shitty, weak jawline, softly, like Tech’s Nana’s cat nibbling at his beard. 

“You’re so soft,” Dak says, quietly, sliding a hand under Tech’s shirt and pressing him a little harder into the seat, but it’s not even close to uncomfortable, aside from Tech’s baby dick hardening, making him lean into Dak’s touch, moaning. 

He regrets not wearing the robo-hog, regrets that Dak might--might not want him if he finds out--but it’s hard to think about that as Dak rests his head between Tech’s neck and shoulder and straddles him. 

“I think I love you,” Tech says, because his brain and mouth are so many steps removed from each other they might as well be in different countries. Dak’s face isn’t in his field of view, but his body freezes on top of Tech’s for just a moment.

“Hey, is it okay if I--?” Dak asks, gently sliding his hand down Tech’s bare, hairy stomach under his shirt, making his spine go rigid. 

“Yeah,” Tech says. “Anything. Anything you want.”

“This okay, baby boy?” Dak asks, thumbing Tech’s clit and making him shudder, his fist clenching in the back of Dak’s flannel. 

“ _ Yes _ ,” Tech breathes, holding on tight as Dak gently, skillfully works him to a breaking point. He chokes back all the things he wants to say to Dak and just moans, some on the edge of whining. He comes slowly, like a steady release, a far cry from jerking off alone, and realizes how tightly he’s gripping Dak’s shirt. He lets go, fingers stiff from holding on, and breathes deeply, brain a little blank.

“Good?” Dak asks, eyes soft, cleaning his fingers off by sticking them in his mouth, almost absently, and for some reason that makes Tech moan again even though he feels like he’s been deboned and well-cooked. 

“Do you want me to--” Tech starts, and Dak shakes his head, shrugging and getting off of Tech.

“I’m okay, but thanks, man,” he says, and the casualty punches Tech hard in the gut, as well as the rejection. Of course Dak doesn’t want him. Why the fuck would Dak want him. He’s just being a good-- _ great _ \--friend. 

Because that’s what they are. Friends. God.  _ Fuck _ .

“Uh, how long should I avoid you before this gets--” Tech says.

“TW. Don’t sweat it. This is all fine, my brother,” Dak says. 

“Do you want me? Ever?” Tech asks, and his voice is small because he probably doesn’t actually want an answer. An answer can’t make it better.

“I, uh…” Dak says, then laughs, a little nervously, maybe defensively. “Hey, um, do you want some space weed? I was just rolling--but, uh, no pressure.”

“Sure,” Tech says, trying not to cry.

Dak sighs and bites his lip, sitting back down next to Tech. “Yeah. Okay? Yeah. I want you. But...I’m not...I’m not  _ good _ for you, Tech, baby, I’m...y’know, you’re still young and...you have a life, you have shit--” He sighs. “I break shit. I don’t wanna break you. Because you’re pretty fucking amazing.”

“Oh,” Tech chokes out, and he can’t stop himself from crying anymore, he presses a hand over his mouth and lets out a strangled sob. 

“I’m sorry, baby boy,” Dak says, gently, stroking Tech’s hair, as if calling him  _ baby boy _ is gonna help this situation _ at fucking all _ .

“I’m okay with you breaking me,” Tech says, and Dak’s hand stops moving.

“Well,” he says, sighing, “I’m not. So I think we should be friends. We can be bangin’ buds, if you’re okay with that, but. I think that’s all.”

“Okay,” Tech says, softly, even though it’s not okay. Even though Dak makes him feel like a stuttering thirteen year old trying to ask his crush out. Even though he can’t not be in love with Dak no matter how hard he tries. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! All feedback is always appreciated <3  
> find me on tumblr @witnesstotheend  
> times like these i'm sad i changed my URL from dadrambo


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